


Fight or Flight

by caelenath



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers S.P.D.
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelenath/pseuds/caelenath
Summary: Jack gets an unexpected lesson in what rage truly looks like.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Fight or Flight

Jack and Sky were returning to the B wing after an impromptu session on the target range that may or may not have been instigated by a heated bet at dinner. As they reached the door to Sky's room, they were surprised to hear a series of crashes from inside, punctuated by loud, angry curses and what sounded like the whir of power tools.

"Son of a—!" _Crash!_ "I'll show you—" _Thunk._ "—and your hedgehog's mother!" _Bzzzzzzzzzz..._

All the commotion alarmed Jack, but when he looked over Sky, his second-in-command was just shaking his head and sighing. Jack gestured at the door. "Is everything, uh, okay?"

"It's fine," Sky said. "But you should go. This could get obscene."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to convince me to leave?"

"It's not supposed to convince you to anything. I'm just warning you."

"Consider me warned. I wanna see what this is about."

"Fine." Sky started to reach for the keypad beside the door, but then turned back to look at Jack a moment, his finger still hovering over the buttons. "Whatever you do, do _not_ laugh."

Jack held up his hands, palms out in a _I'm cool_ gesture, and only then did Sky key open the door.

The Blue and Green Ranger's shared living space had always looked like two halves of two different pictures sewn together. Sky's Spartan and eternally pristine side contrasted sharply with Bridge's lived-in clutter and wrinkled bedspread when the bed was made at all. What Jack saw now, however, was...well, the phrase ' _bull in a china shop_ ' came to mind. Magazines and books and computer parts were strewn about everywhere, lying upturned or in disheveled piles where they'd been thrown. Bridge's desk chair was tipped on its side in the corner where it had been roughly shoved. One shoe lay beside Bridge's pillow with its sole facing skyward like a capsized turtle.

The Green Ranger, brandishing a power drill in one hand, was standing over his desk, and even as Jack and Sky looked on, he grabbed the keyboard off the tabletop and flung it like a Frisbee onto the bed. Then he swung himself under the desk and lay into its support bars with the drill. Jack couldn't see what he was doing, but a few seconds later, a large silver bolt rained down on the Green Ranger, hitting him squarely on the nose.

"Ow! Fuck!"

The offending hardware was quickly grabbed and chucked aside with such force that it might have punched a hole right through the wall if the Academy weren't built out of reinforced steel. As it was, the bolt left a small divot near the baseboard after ricocheting off with a sound as loud as a gunshot.

"Motherchucker."

The Green Ranger resumed his drilling, and more silver bolts dropped down onto his chest and onto the floor. A minute later, he got out from under the desk, pulled at the return, and the entire section detached. He shoved it aside, and the squeal of the metal legs scraping on the floor made Jack wince.

"Bridge," said Sky.

"What?!"

Jack had heard the Green Ranger angry before, and defensive, and disdainful a few times, but never hostile. This was a new mood he'd never seen in the most genial member of his team, and frankly he found it kind of uncomfortable. Luckily, the Blue Ranger seemed to take it in stride.

"What are you doing?" Sky asked with something as close to patience as Jack had ever heard from him.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Bridge snapped. "I'm taking apart this fucking desk that's been in the way for two years, four months, and sixteen days." As he spoke, he carelessly stabbed the power tool in his hand towards the offending furniture, and the only reason Jack didn't worry about it more was the fact that Bridge hadn't gone for his blaster instead.

"Same. fucking. spot. for two and almost a half years and I still manage to—oh, and I was paying attention this time! Aren't I the guy who's supposed to see things before they happen? What the fuck good is it if I can't even see something that's right in front of me? Two and almost a half fucking years...I'm fixing that. I am fixing that right now."

Without waiting for a reply, the Green Ranger got back under the desk and resumed his vengeance with the drill, all the while grumbling about his "asshat powers" and calling the desk obscene names for parts of anatomy that desks didn't have.

Jack bit down on his lip hard, and Sky must have seen him on the verge of losing it because in the next second, he was towing Jack out of the room and letting the door slide shut behind them. He didn't stop there, though. With a finger to his lips, he made them go all the way down to Jack's door before he dropped his hand, and that's when Jack finally burst out laughing.

"What...the hell...was that." The Red Ranger could barely breathe, let alone speak. "Wow."

"C'mon, Jack," said Sky. "You can't tell me you've never lost your cool before after smacking into something and feeling like an idiot while it hurts like fuck."

Jack wiped at his eyes. "Sure I have, but that"—he gestured up the hallway—"was not losing your cool. _That_ was losing your complete and utter shit. What the hell happened anyway? And does he always do that when it happens?"

The Blue Ranger gave him a look of pure long-suffering. "You have not known rage until you've seen Bridge Carson stub his toe."

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This is the exact and absolutely true story of how this fic was born. One, I (surprise) stubbed my toe. Two, I'm fascinated how such and similar types of self-injury can immediately spark inordinate rage. Three, I'd been picking apart Bridge's neuro-atypicalness for a long time and I thought, 'what if, for him, that rage didn't last only a moment?' That immediately evolved into the punchline for this story, which I giggled over for three days. Then I started typing up a fic to illustrate said punchline because my sense of humor doesn't always translate.
> 
> And so this crack!fic was born. (And maybe my sense of humor still doesn't make sense anyway.)


End file.
